


First Lesson

by HK44



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kissing, M/M, author is just tired tbh, hickey, trans!damian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 16:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12939288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HK44/pseuds/HK44
Summary: The sketchbook was open, Damian’s laptop beside it on the bed. Duke froze as he caught sight at what was up on the browser, the screen titled back at just the perfect angle to hit him with a ton of references of people kissing.He turned on Damian who was still standing at the door. Damian’s eyes narrowed.Duke gestured loosely to the hallway, peeking through the doorway. “So, I’m just gonna-”Damian slammed the door shut.Duke nodded. “Okay then.”





	First Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last week but like?? IT FEELS SO SELF-INDULGENT THAT I WAS TOO ASHAMED TO POST?? but it's also two in the morning and my ability to care is so low right now, so here????
> 
> (It also feels so wrong?? idk why but probably like characterization. or just bc I WAS SO INDULGENT IN WRITING IT)

“Someone had a rough night,” Stephanie teased from behind the counter. “Nice hickey, Mr. Business Man.”

Shifting his coat collar so it fit better around the hickey that stood out stark purple against his pale skin, Tim rolled his eyes and threw down his bag. “Just for that, I’m not returning the scarf you let me borrow last week.”

She launched herself at him, yelling a loud war cry of demanding victory. Tim jolted, hands barely falling upwards before she’d knocked right into him and sent them both flying into the ground. Duke raised his eyebrow, unamused.

His hot chocolate was better entertainment.

Beside him, Damian was watching the two dopes thrashing around on the ground like immature children with a clouded look in his eyes. For once, in all of Duke’s living in the manor, Damian said nothing.

It was creepy weird.

Duke nudged him.

Damian started so violently, his tea spilled over his hand into his lap. He jerked out of his chair, hissing through clenched teeth. Tim, head caught in a titled lock between Stephanie’s arms, snorted as Stephanie bit her lip bloody to stop from laughing.

“Have a little accident, baby brat?” Tim asked, grinning wide.

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck off,” he growled, grabbing a cloth towel from the drawers and cleaning up the mess as quickly as possible.

Throwing the towel in the sink, he marched around Tim and Stephanie with a slight pause to crunch Tim’s free hand under his foot with a vindictive _step_. Tim shouted obscenities after him, cradling his freshly injured hand to his chest.

Stephanie still hadn’t released him, giggles bubbling from her chest.

“What do you think that was all about?” she asked, looking Duke over.

Duke shrugged. “A jam in the insult machine?”

Stephanie shrugged. “Maybe,” she grunted as she tightened her hold on Tim’s head.

Tim swatted at her. “Stephanie!”

“Where’s the scarf, Drake?”

“Stephanie, leggo!”

“ _Tell me where the scarf is!”_

“Okay!” Duke said, pushing his chair. “I’m just gonna… go enjoy my hot chocolate. With the sane people.”

“So alone?” Stephanie heaved out as Tim elbowed her in the gut.

“Only if Cass isn’t around.” Duke stepped around them. “Have fun killing each other.”

Stephanie rolled Tim over and pinned his arms behind his back. “You got it, buddy!”

“ _STEPHANIE, LET ME GO! I HAVE CRAP TO DO, YOU ASS!_ ”

Duke rolled his eyes as Stephanie let out a psychotic laugh and Tim’s shouts turned pained. Behind him in another hallway, he could hear the tell-a-tale click of Bruce’s footsteps drawing closer, pausing and then growing quiet as they dipped back down the way they came.

 _Smart move,_ Duke thought as he slipped up the staircase and walked towards Cass’s room. If he was lucky she’d be home and they could sit up on her bed and watch old reruns of Friends or pop in Jurassic Park. Cass was always up for soft comedy or dinosaurs.

On his way, he passed by Damian’s door. Without thinking, he stopped short in front of it. The door was shut tight. Normally he’d started leaving it cracked ever so slightly, just enough that Alfred or Titus, or even Ace, could push their paws against the crack and ease the door open themselves.

When it was shut all the way, it meant _something_.

And judging from the way Dick had flushed bright red and yelled “NO!” when Bruce had muttered something about going to hurry Damian up weeks ago, Duke had a slight idea what Damian might’ve been doing.

Which wasn’t weird.

Normal human teenager stuff that Duke was… _vaguely_ familiar with. And it wasn’t like he ever intruded normally on Damian’s space, so he might as well as just continued on with his evening.

Still, something seemed a little off.

Maybe it was the way Damian stormed out of the kitchen or the way he stared at Tim just prior to it.

Duke stiffened.

 _Oh crap_.

There had been a sudden increase in Damian’s insults, his cracks at Tim’s expense ever since Tim brought Kon home months before and let everyone know they were dating. Just like when Dick announced Kori’s pregnancy and became an infrequent presence in the months closing in on Mari’s birth and the months following, became infrequent around everyone. Including Damian. Who didn’t really take to people stealing away the ones he enjoyed.

So was it possible that-

Did Damian-

 _No_ , Duke thought, shaking his head. _No way_.

Even so the thought of Tim and Damian _together_ pervaded his head. And the thought of Damian doing anything to the thought of _Tim_.

He shuddered, walking faster down the hallway, intent on Cass.

Two minutes later, he was back in front of Damian’s door, his hot chocolate almost cold, his mind cursing out his morbid curiousity and his hand knocking hesitantly against the door. Luck to him, Damian opened the door all the way, fully dressed, in seconds. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Yes?” he asked, sounding far too weary for a seventeen year old.

“I just-” Duke shrugged, trying to look carefree. “Just wondering if you were okay. Tea didn’t scald you or anything?”

Damian frowned. “Unlike some _heathens_ , I don’t _burn_ my tea, Thomas, so no, it did not hurt me, but thank you for the check-in.”

He moved to close the door when Duke stuck his foot out, jamming it from closing. Peeling it back open, he glared at Duke. His stance, heads shorter than Duke’s, felt like it was towering over him. “Uh, is everything else okay?”

“Yes,” Damian said quickly. “Is that all?”

“No, I just-” Duke leaned against the doorway. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem- antsy.”

“I was sketching. I’d like to get back to it.”

Duke nodded slowly. “Okay. Can I see?”

“What?”

Duke gestured inside the dim room. “What you’re working on.”

“No, you-” Duke powered into the room before Damian could stop him.

The sketchbook was open, Damian’s laptop beside it on the bed. Duke froze as he caught sight at what was up on the browser, the screen titled back at just the perfect angle to hit him with a ton of references of people kissing.

He turned on Damian who was still standing at the door. Damian’s eyes narrowed.

Duke gestured loosely to the hallway, peeking through the doorway. “So, I’m just gonna-”

Damian slammed the door shut.

Duke nodded. “Okay then.”

Damian’s teeth worried over his bottom lip as he looked Duke over. It wasn’t the first time Duke had caught Damian calculating him, like he was a puzzle to be worked out, though this time there was a different intensity to it.

Duke tried not to think about that. Instead he brushed over the phrase Jason handed him the first time he’d had a poor altercation with Damian. WWDD. What would Dick do?

“What’s on your mind, Dames?” he asked, trying to sound cheery bright.

Damian stiffened, his eyes widening like he hadn’t expected to be pulled out of his thoughts so soon. Shyly, he drew his arms behind his back. “I-” He licked his lips and frowned, his gaze darkening. “If you tell anyone-”

“You haven’t said anything for me to tell anyone on,” Duke replied dryly.

Damian’s eyes narrowed further.

Duke rolled his eyes. “Look, Damian, if you’re just working on people _kissing_ that’s not anything to be ashamed about. I mean, come on, there are people who draw _nudes_. You’ll probably work on that at some point too. These are just-” He gestured loosely around the room, struggling for the words. “- _artistic_ things that artists do.”

“That’s not-” Damian’s voice cut out before he could continue.

Duke raised an eyebrow. “What? What’s not?”

“Nothing,” Damian said quickly. He pulled open the door and gestured out to the hallway. “Leave.”

“No,” Duke said, voice tinged with laughter. “Tell me!”

Even in the low light, Duke could see the light flush that slipped over Damian’s face. “It’s like you said, I’m studying it for… future reference.”

 _Future…_ A light bulb burst alight in Duke’s head. His face burned. “ _Oh_.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I don’t really think that’s something you can study. With. Art.”

Damian glared at him. “ _I know_ ,” he bit out.

Damian had never really shown interest in anyone before. Not Maya or Colin or even Jon, though that was likely because Jon was too many years under him for Damian to have interest in. The kid was older than he should’ve been. He needed to match himself up with someone of equal stance.

And no one had yet to come across him as such.

Not even Tim.

Slightly relieved, Duke’s shoulders sagged. “Damian-”

“I don’t need your pity, Thomas.”

“I’m not pitying you,” Duke said hurriedly. He laughed. “C’mon, I didn’t have my first kiss until I was eighteen. And that was awkward. They all are. Don’t stress it.”

Damian scowled. “I am not _stressing_ it.”

“Which is why you’ve just been doodling smooches recently.”

“Just today,” Damian growled.

Duke rolled his eyes. “So, if I looked through that book, you’re telling me there wouldn’t be pages and pages of kissing “references”,” he teased.

Damian’s flush darkened, finally burning bright red under his olive skin. Duke rolled his eyes and slung his arm over Damian’s shoulders. “C’mon, you can watch TV with me instead of moping over your lack of a love life.”

Damian shoved him off. “I am not concerned with my love life,” he spat.

“Then what’s the issue?”

Damian’s eyes darted to the open door. Gently, Duke nudged it shut with the back of his foot and leaned against the door as he closed with a _click_.

Relaxation seemed to slip through Damian’s skin. He crossed his arms. “It’s simply been on my mind recently.” He shifted his foot, scuffing the heel against the floor. “I am concerned with what happens when it begins.” Duke frowned. Damian licked his lips and dropped his head. “I don’t have any… _experience_.”

“And drawing helps you how exactly?”

With his thumb, Damian stroked his bicep. His eyebrows were drawn down. “Mother had me reinforce my memory by redrawing items.” He glanced up at Duke from under his lashed. “I was less likely to forget a plan to a building or the precise look of an artefact, if I had committed it to memory in some way. Realism in art reinforced my memory.”

Duke blinked. Oh. He frowned and leaned off the door. “Damian, I don’t think reinforcing how people kiss to memory is going to help you do well when it happens.”

Damian scowled. “You don’t know that.”

“That’s true, but, honestly…” He gestured loosely, unable to think of a way to seal his thoughts. It seemed pretty obvious anyway, though the look on Damian’s face had him feeling that Damian’s stubbornness wasn’t letting him believe that. He rolled his eyes. “Look, Damian, it just won’t. There’s no amount of committing something like _that_ to memory that’s actually going to help you utilize it. It’s like saying watching martial arts movies makes you a martial artist.”

“If you practice alongside,” Damian said loftily.

Duke pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damian, it just _doesn’t_ okay. As the person _with_ the experience here-”

“Minimal experience,” Damian bit out.

“Still more experience than you!” He pointed roughly at Damian with his free hand. “And it’s not minimal, I just don’t bring anyone around here because you’re all insane.”

Damian inspected his nails. “That’s fair.” He recrossed his arms. “So, prove it.”

Duke paused. What?

“What?”

“Prove it.” Damian rocked on the back of his heels, eyes calculating again. “You and I will kiss, and I will either win, thereby proving that my method of reinforcement works, or you will win, proving that I was wrong.”

“Damian, I am not going to kiss you.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re seventeen,” Duke snapped. “That’s gross.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “You’re twenty, Thomas. A three year difference is not illegal.”

“Damian, I don’t care. It’s creepy. You’re younger than me.”

Damian eyed him. “By three years, Thomas.”

“Stop calling me by my last name.”

“Okay, _Duke_.”

Damian’s voice was warm and the way he said Duke’s first name sent chills down Duke’s spine. He resisted the urge to shiver. Instead, he stood up straight and looked Damian over. There was something sketchy and suspicious happening here. “Damian-”

“If you don’t, I win by default.”

Duke groaned. “Okay, first of all? Kissing is not something you’re supposed to win, it’s not a fight.”

“Another thing that you can prove,” Damian said, bounding to Duke in quick strides. It felt too sudden when he popped up in front of Duke, eyes staring at him with a ferocity Duke hadn’t ever seen in him before.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Duke’s back hit the door. “Um-”

Damian smiled softly, leaning up into Duke’s face on his tippiest of toes. “ _Prove. It_.”

Duke let out a soft, breathy laugh of discomfort. “Damian,” he said, a little strangled, “I don’t think that this is a good idea, okay?”

Damian drew back. His eyes clouded over for the briefest of seconds before he was suddenly too far away from Duke and settling on the edge of his bed, pulling his sketchbook into his lap.

His body was tense, too stiff.

He knew Duke knew.

He knew Duke figured it out.

“Fine.” His voice was short, annoyed.

“Damian-”

“Jut go, please,” Damian said, not looking at him. He twisted himself around until his face was out of view. “And close the door behind yourself, thank you.”

Duke winced.

This really hadn’t been what he wanted either.

“Fine,” he said quickly. He set his cup down on the beside table and grabbed Damian’s shoulders. “Quick, easy, fast smooch. Let’s go.”

Damian glared at him and swatted Duke’s hands. “I don’t need pity, Thomas.”

“ _Duke_ ,” Duke stressed. He grabbed Damian’s wrist. “If you back out of this after I offered, I win by default.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed.

He never liked to lose anything.

Shifting around, he faced Duke fully, on his knees so they were head-to-head. “Okay,” he said, voice suddenly hesitant. “How-”

Duke cut him off with a well-timed kiss against Damian’s open mouth. Damian startled, nearly slipping away but Duke caught him around the waist, rubbing his thumb against the bare skin right about Damian’s hip. Damian let out a low whine, surging into him with a thousand demands.

Duke slid his fingers through Damian’s hair, tugging him back a little bit. “Okay, okay, I win.”

“ _No_ ,” Damian groaned, voice near _guttural_ , grabbing Duke’s face and pulling him in close.

Duke froze up, not sure what to do or how to stop it or _what to do_.

Then he gave up.

Damian let out a startled noise as Duke pushed him backwards onto the bed, climbed on top of him. He stared up at Duke, voice falling out of him annoyed until Duke cut him off.

“Look, you’re super bad at this,” Duke said, voice tinged sarcastic enough that Damian wouldn’t take the statement to hard. “So, I’m gonna show you how to kiss and kiss _well_ , alright?”

Damian flushed dark but nodded rapidly. Duke rubbed his face.

Ah, Bruce was gonna kill him.

“What Father doesn’t know,” Damian mumbled, “won’t kill him.”

“Next time you say something like that,” Duke began with a little jab to Damian’s chest, “don’t sound so experienced with it.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Todd-”

Clamping his hand over Damian’s mouth, Duke cut him off. Anything about Jason or Bruce or God, _anyone_ in this hellhole of a thrown-together family was just going to screw the mood. Like thinking of them as a family.

He groaned, drawing back. “This is so stupid.” He buried his face in palms. “Being around you weirdoes has fucked me up so much more than I thought.” Why would he even _consider_ this?

Damian shifted up, nearly uprooting Duke entirely from his lap. His face was flushed darker than normal, eyes wide.

It was almost cute.

If the situation wasn’t so weird.

Damian crossed his arms, drawing his knees to his chest as Duke slid off him. “I’m sorry,” he said very quietly.

Duke paused from where he was stepping off the bed. In his mind ran a million scenarios. One, he could talk this through with Damian. Tell him crushes were totally normal and trying to trick your crush into kissing you was also, sadly, a normal thing to do, though generally unsuccessful. Two, he could just leave, making their lives a lot more awkward and watching Friends with Cass, who was annoyingly tuned in on people and their emotional states, a lot more unbearable that it ever should’ve been.

Or, he could just, think about the fact that Damian was pretty hot for a seventeen year old, three years wasn’t a horrible age gap and go with it.

He stared at himself in Damian’s stand-up mirror, held clear on the wall beside the closet.

If he was going to jail for something, he might’ve as well have committed the crime.

Turning on Damian, he brandished out his hands. “Okay, look, ground rules. You tell no one I did. Never. Ever. Ever.” Damian’s face brightened up ever so slightly, his legs slipping down slow until they were splayed out against his sheets. Duke pointed at him. “And seriously, Dames, I’m teaching. You do nothing. This isn’t going to be like when I taught you basketball and you kept stealing the ball from me and not listening.”

“Dribbling was boring,” Damian muttered as he stretched out.

“And so is having to chase a thirteen year old around a court while he yells about victories and clearly does not _understand the game_ ,” Duke snapped, climbing back onto the bed.

Damian shuffled down until only his head braced the pillow. “You’re not that good of a teacher if you couldn’t maintain my focus.”

Duke hovered over Damian, both hands brandished beside Damian’s head. Damian’s hands were braced under his back, trying to prove he was going to be a _good_ student, which, ugh, was not a good thought process to brace in this scenario.

So, Duke ran a thumb over the plump of Damian’s bottom lip and went for a different kind of sexy.

“Well, let’s see how well I maintain it now,” he murmured so soft and deep Damian’s eyes snapped open wide and a shudder slid through his entire body.

Before Damian could say anything back, Duke swept down and caught him in a slow, soft kiss. Damian let out the lowest whine, surging up so fast their teeth clacked together. Duke caught the back of his head, pulling at his hair until Damian relented and eased back with Duke’s grip. Slowly Duke followed him down, brushing over Damian’s upper lip with his tongue.

Tentatively, Damian opened his mouth, his hips shifting up on reflex.

It was a little different than Duke had experienced the last time someone had ground up into him. Damian didn’t have a noticeable bulge. And the other guys hadn’t been so forceful about it.

Laughing quietly, he pulled back, pressing one hand into Damian’s waist. “Eager?”

Damian flushed ever darker, his face burned so red Duke worried if it was even healthy. “I have-” He squeezed his eyes shut. When they reopened seconds later, he was looking pointedly at a spot above Duke’s eyes. “I am-”

“Eager,” Duke cut in. He rubbed his thumb gently against the spot of skin Damian bared along his hips. “That’s fine.” He smiled light. “It’s nice.” He eased himself back down, his hand still pressing against Damian’s waist. “But try not to go so fast in the future.” He moved his hand up, strokind down the side of Damian’s face and slightly relishing in the feel of Damian’s eventual shiver. “You want tension to build. Go slow”

Damian shivered but nodded. Nervously, he licked his lips, eyes finally darting down as he looked over Duke’s face.

Swallowing thickly, he said, “I apologize if I’m not the… kind of _student_ you’d prefer.”

Duke paused, not sure what that meant until his waist met Damian’s and it clicked. He shook his head. “This is fine,” he said. “You’re boy. I like boys. What’s weird is your dad is the guy who’s fostering me.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “You are not his blood. You do not count.”

“Way to make me feel like part of the family,” Duke teased, pressing his mouth against Damian’s before he could say anything else that would completely fuck up the mood.

Immediately Damian shifted, like he was getting ready to throw himself into Duke again, but at the last second, he stilled, softening against Duke’s grip and letting himself be pressed back into the sheets. Duke squeezed Damian’s hip once before shifting his arm up, so it boxed up around Damian’s head.

Under him, Damian was squirming. The movement was too slow and not deliberate enough for Duke to feel like he was trying to escape but even so he relented, brought himself up just a little bit.

He licked once against Damian’s bottom lip. Damian whimpered but instead of chasing the moment or trying to control of it, he relented and let Duke lick into his mouth with ease.

Duke started gently as a hand curved over the back of his neck, sliding through the thick scruff of hair he’d been trying to grow out ~~a little~~. Damian’s other hand quickly slid out from under his back, curling hesitantly over Duke’s side.

Slowly, he tugged.

Duke relented, pressing down into him. Damian let out the lowest whine, his hands clenching where they gripped at Duke, his hips giving one sudden roll against Duke’s pelvis

As Duke pulled away, just needing to catch his breath, gain some more perspective, Damian’s eyes snapped open. His cheeks had lessened in their red, falling back to dark olive hue. But his hand on Duke’s waist had tightened, like he was afraid he’d done something wrong.

Duke patted his chest soothingly and tried not to think about how in a matter of minutes Damian had so easily moved from distinguished to disheveled.

He tried to not think about how Damian was likely easy to rile up, probably had a short fuse, if he even had one, and how Duke would probably just have to look at him in the right way to get him in the mood and how _attractive_ Damian had grown up to be.

He _really_ , really tried not to think about that part.

“Uh-” He gestured loosely into the air, thinking fast. Anything to reorient the conversation. “Tim.” Excellent choice. “His hickey.” Less so. “I’m-” The words dropped out of his mouth before he could think. “I’m gonna give you one.”

Damian let out a noise somewhere between a squawk and a moan.

Duke tried not to think about what that did to his groin.

He’d really thought hitting eighteen put him past that whole “one stiff breeze and you’re up” phase. Nineteen should’ve done it for sure.

But Damian’s eyes and the little noises he made as Duke rubbed the spot on his left hipbone raw had Duke going slightly crazy.

He really should’ve just said no when Bruce offered to take him in. It would’ve made everything so much easier.

But rather than dwell on that, he dropped back down and bit lightly at the junction between Damian’s neck and collarbone. Damian groaned, rolling his hips upwards until they ground into Duke’s hard. Trying to focus, Duke pressed his hands into Damian’s waist and pulled back just enough to look him in the eye.

“Okay, I can see you’ve got a super short fuse and I don’t know if that has something to do with you or, you know, your body-” Damian rolled his eyes, looking stupidly disdainful for someone with dilated pupils and bedhead. “-but I’m just- _don’t_ ,” Duke stressed. “Just relax, okay? Draw it out. It’s much more fun that way.”

“How much fun were you planning?” Damian murmured, his hand sliding up Duke’s shirt.

Duke was beginning to hate Damian’s confidence. He grabbed Damian’s wrist and pinned his arms above his head. “Not that kind, Damian. You’re like five.”

Damian rolled his hips up, slow and hard. Duke groaned into his collarbone. “Still five?” Damian asked, too clear for Duke’s taste.

“Yes,” Duke growled before catching Damian’s mouth again.

Damian was too busy whining to focus on throwing back a retort. His arms locked over Duke’s neck, legs spreading until his knees bumped against Duke’s waist.

Without thinking, Duke slid his free hand up under Damian’s shirt, thumbing over his stomach. Damian jerked, reeling back so fast Duke was sure he’d been stabbed somewhere.

Until it clicked. Again.

He pulled back. “Shit, I’m sorry!”

Damian blinked up at him then shook his head. “No, I-” He swallowed thickly and refused to look at him. “It was fine. I- I _liked_ the touch.” He shook his head again and sat up. “I need to take it off anyway.”

Duke nodded slowly, easing off Damian again and turning a full one-eighty. Behind him, he could hear Damian’s clothes shifting loudly, Damian’s slow groan of relief sliding through the air like a fucking aphrodisiac and curse from God Himself as his binder landed somewhere to Duke’s left.

After a few more seconds, the bed gave a soft _pwsh_ and Damian mumbled, “You can turn around.” Duke did, crawling back over him. Damian, again, wasn’t looking at his face but somewhere around it. Quietly, he said, “You didn’t have to look away.”

“Well then, next time I won’t,” Duke said. He looked Damian over. “Do you need-”

“No,” Damian said quickly, before Duke could finish his question, and surged up into him before Duke could think about how annoying it was that Damian always just _assumed_ what people were going to say to him.

That was fine.

With Damian’s track record, he’d have another chance to dwell on that thought sometime soon.

Instead, he used his newfound distraction to sink deep into Damian’s waist, fingers tentatively sliding up Damian’s shirt. He stopped short of his bellybutton. When Damian didn’t complain, he slid them a little higher.

All the while, he was sucking low on Damian’s bottom lip until Damian was nothing but whining whimpers and needy groans. Ignoring him, Duke dragged his mouth down to Damian’s collarbone again, intent on making good on his promise.

It was making sense why Tim’s new relationship with Kon had tipped Damian over the edge as it had. It wasn’t _Kon_ that was making him jealous or _Tim_. Just what they had.

What they had that he evidently was wanting.

Stephanie’s teasing was likely just a further reminder of that.

_It’s been on my mind recently._

Duke dropped his hand down to Damian’s waistline as he tried rolling his hips up into Duke’s groin again, pinning him down with a hard press. Part of him wondered as he dragged his teeth over Damian’s skin, just hard enough that Damian’s breath hitched, if the spots he was gripping would bruise.

Judging by how hard Damian was fighting him back, Damian had no issues on bruises. Which made sense given he had the bare minimum of a concept of _pain_.

With that in mind, Duke pressed harder.

Damian groaned, giving up on rolling his hips and settling for squeezing his thighs against Duke’s waist in an ill-mannered attempt to push him down. Duke pulled away a little, biting hard against Damian’s throat.

Damian hissed, his nails digging into Duke’s biceps where they were gripping like Duke was his lifeline.

Breathing hard, Duke pulled away. It was small but the hickey was fairly noticeable, blooming a little darker than Damian’s natural shade.

He licked his lips, too many thoughts running past his mind, just like when he was fifteen and got a nice and decent view of Dick’s ass in the Nightwing suit for the first time.

And he _knew_ where those thoughts led to.

“Okay,” he exhaled sharply. “Good first lesson.

For half a second, Damian looked annoyed. Until the words processed. “First?”

Pointedly not looking at him, Duke rubbed his jaw. “Yeah. First.”

Damian sat up, his hands sliding from Duke’s arm to his waist. “So, there will be a second?”

“That’s kind of what first implies, Damian,” Duke said as he detached himself from Damian and knocked him back with a playful push to the shoulder. “You’ve got a lot to learn. About patience. And… other crap.”

Damian looked annoyingly pleased with himself.

Duke tried not to think about how long he might’ve been planning something like this. The kid was smart but this smart?

He pushed away the following thoughts, sliding off the bed and brushing himself down. Damian had the nerve to lay back against his pillows, satisfied. “When will the next _lesson_ occur?”

Duke played with his belt loop. “After you take me to dinner,” he said finally.

Damian’s eyes widened, a grin splitting over his mouth. It was so uncharacteristic of him, a sudden glimpse and reminder that Damian wasn’t a robot or tiny ass-kicking sidekick, but a person. Who could actually feel things that weren’t excessive violence and the need to murder Tim and steal Jason’s diet Coke when he wasn’t looking then blame it on Tim once he’d left the room.

It was actually really cute.

And it was only the third time Duke had ever seen him like that in the four years they’d known each other.

He tried really hard not to think about that either.

Instead he pointed at Damian firmly. “Dinner. And then I’ll let you know.”

Damian flopped onto his stomach. “How about we have dinner now?”

Duke snorted. “I’m not _that_ easy.” He winced as Damian’s eyes lit up. “Shut up, that’s not what I meant.”

Damian just laughed and sat back up. “I know, Duke.” He regarded him over. “I will text you a time by tomorrow afternoon.”

 _So disciplined,_ Duke thought. _So needy._ What happened to the days of vaguely trying to figure out a nice time and place then giving up and going to McDonald’s after school because who had the time to actually take someone out?

“Alright.” Duke grabbed the doorknob. “ _Do not_ make me regret this.”

“I assure you I have no intentions of doing so.”

As Duke swung the door open, he looked Damian over and sighed. “And cover that up, will you?”

Damian’s fingers lightly pressed over the hickey, small as it was. His grin grew malicious. “I assure you,” he began, “I have _no_ intentions of doing so.”

“Your dad is going to kill me,” Duke muttered, his foot bracing the door open as he went and gripped the bridge of his nose, feeling like _his_ dad after a long day and a terrible news overview.

Suddenly Damian was at his side. Footsteps peeled down the hallway on the other side of Duke, growing closer and closer but the heat of Damian’s body pressed up against Duke’s side, Damian’s grip on his wrist vice-like and _serious_ , was an utterly sweet distraction from him wondering who it could possibly be and what they might catch the two doing and _think_.

Leaning up, Damian whispered, “I assure you. I have no intentions of letting _anyone_ hurt you.”

Then he pressed one quick kiss to Duke’s cheek, shoved him out of the doorway and let the door fall shut with a click. Duke stared at the closed doorway, confused, until he turned to head back down to Cass’s and caught sight of Bruce staring at him quietly with a cup of coffee and his robe on, a newspaper tucked under his armpit.

He looked like a dad from a 50’s sitcom.

Which had Duke feeling like the edgy bad boy boyfriend of whom he wildly disapproved.

Which would’ve made Damian the sweet lovable good girl daughter, which just. Didn’t fit Damian at all.

Bruce looked him over. Then at Damian’s door. Then at Duke.

Then he sighed deeply, like the world was conspiring against him but he was far too used to it to care, and walked around Duke and down the stairs to the cave, but not before pausing right at Duke’s side and saying, “His mother was like that too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed that mess :PPP (This ship is slowly consuming my life)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://happyk44.tumblr.com/post/168281058282/first-lesson-hk44-batman-all-media-types) || [Art](http://instagram.com/hk44_art)


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